Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Chapter 12

Arthur sighed, staring at the papers in front of him for so long that the words blurred into an inky mass in front of him. He was tired, having shut himself in his study three hours ago, but he had barely scratched the surface of the work his boss had told him to complete by tomorrow. It didn't help that there was the constant sound of thumping and knocking things over upstairs.

Alfred was having a tantrum because of how they had left Francis' house earlier. But Arthur had tried to ignore it, knowing it would only end with him upsetting Alfred even more. He was trying not to think of what had happened, but Francis' face kept forming in his mind. Arthur felt stupid, wishing that he had just stayed in Francis' arms instead of dragging Alfred off home. He hadn't felt so lonely before, even after his wife left him, it was a wave of relief in comparison to the feeling that something was missing to him now.

Arthur stood, crossing the room to a small cabinet and retrieving a key from the top drawer that was out of Alfred's reach, before crouching down and unlocking the two cupboard doors. He opened them, revealing a few bottles of different spirits. He kept them locked away so he wouldn't be tempted to drink too often, and so that Alfred wouldn't stumble across them accidentally. But now he felt like the bottles were the only form of comfort he had, and he poured some amber-brown liquid into a glass and went back to his desk, so eager for the drink that he didn't realise he had left the cabinet open.

XxX

Matthew hated to see his father so quiet. He was usually happy, smiling and always had a spring in his step. But now, as Matthew watched his Papa from the kitchen doorway, he saw the sad demeanour that he had witnessed too much after the death of Matthew's mother. Francis' movements looked stiff and almost robotic as he cooked the dinner, and he wasn't humming or dancing around the kitchen with the radio on, like he normally did. His hair was tied back roughly with an elastic band, instead of arranged into a neat ponytail and tied with a ribbon. Matthew knew his father was thinking about Arthur, and though he didn't know what had happened, he could tell it wasn't good.

Michelle almost bumped into Matthew as she was making her way to the kitchen, before noticing the boy was standing in the doorway watching his father. She paused, glancing at both of them. She had never met the man and the boy that her brother and nephew seemed so close to, but it was plain to see how much they had altered Francis and Matthew's lives.

She put a hand on Matthew's shoulder lightly, and he glanced up at his aunt, offering a small smile, but he missed Alfred and he didn't like seeing his father so melancholy.

"Why don't you go and play while I talk to your father for a bit?" she suggested kindly, and Matthew moved away from the door, obediently going into the living room. Michelle watched him go, before entering the kitchen quietly. Francis wasn't aware she had come in, caught up in trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Arthur and him. And when Michelle laid a hand on her brother's shoulder, he jolted slightly in surprise, the simple movement tearing him from his thoughts momentarily. Seeing his sister, Francis offered a smile, as if nothing was wrong.

"Bonjour. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes~" his expression and tone were familiar to Michelle. His too-chirpy tone sounded a little strained, as if he was trying too hard to sound happy and normal. And his expression was one of a forced smile, but it was a poor disguise for the echo of pain and upset in his eyes. It saddened her to see her brother like this, and for once, her never-faltering smile did falter.

"I haven't seen you like this since…" she began, but realised it would do no good to put salt in Francis' wound by mentioning his late wife. Michelle sighed, gently taking both of Francis' hands in hers, coaxing him to look at her and not ignore her in favour of cooking instead. Francis turned to her as she had wanted, his expression forlorn although he still managed the strained smile he hoped was convincing enough.

"I didn't really get a chance to meet the guy in your bed," Michelle gave a small smile, as that was what she was referring to him as. "But whoever he was, it's clear you care about him."

Francis responded with a small nod, not speaking which gave her permission to continue.

"…What happened?" she asked gently, as she was only able to gather that something happened between her brother and the guy in his bed. Francis hesitated, his expression threatening to crumple again as he looked like he about to let tears slip.

"I don't know what I did wrong…" his voice was quiet and wobbly; it was clear that he had fallen so deeply for Arthur that he blamed himself for what had happened between them. Michelle frowned slightly, as she knew Francis had blamed himself for his wife's passing before as well.

"What happened, frère?" she asked again patiently, wanting to know how this could be resolved.

"He…Arthur said he just needed some time…but –"

"Well there you go. He 'just needs some time' doesn't mean 'I hate you and I never want to see you again'." Michelle pointed out, offering her brother a kind smile, but Francis didn't look reassured.

"Besides," she continued, placing a hand gently on his arm to comfort him. "How could anyone ever hate you?"

At this, Francis manages a small smile, as his little sister had always thought the world of him. He pulled Michelle into a hug, to thank her for trying to comfort him. He still felt down about Arthur leaving like he did, but he hoped he was just reading too much into Arthur's words. Michelle beamed, hugging him back, before standing on her tip-toes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Matthew, who was watching quietly from the doorway, smiled at seeing his father happier again. Perhaps his father would get to see Arthur again, and he was waiting for the next time he could play with Alfred.

XxX

Alfred knew his father had been drinking again instantly. He peeked through the gap left by the adjacent door of the study, seeing the cabinet he had always been banned from, open and revealing shiny, tinted glass bottles. He didn't know exactly what they were, but he knew when Arthur drank from them, it made him grumpy, angry or upset. He hoped his father wasn't angry this time, as he pushed the door open a little wider, seeing his father sat in his office chair, staring at the wall in front of him.

"…Dad?" Alfred ventured into the room, holding his toy alien for comfort. Arthur started slightly at the sound of Alfred's voice, turning to look at him. He had tear tracks down his cheeks, and Alfred noted he looked both sad and scared, something he rarely saw on his father's usually stern features. Arthur didn't even bother trying to hide the fact that he had been crying, and his expression creased again as silent tears slipped down his slightly pink cheeks. Alfred frowned slightly at this, going over to him and offering him his toy alien to cuddle for comfort.

"Tony wants to know if you're okay…" Alfred mumbled, trying to pretend he was the stronger one now that his father was crying in front of him. Arthur felt a stab of guilt as he realised this, and pulled his son into a hug, sitting him on his lap in the chair. Alfred, for all his show of being brave and strong, hugged his father back tightly.

"I'm sorry, Alfred…for ruining…your sleepover…" Arthur whispered in a wobbly voice, but Alfred pulled back a little, meeting his father's teary gaze and offering a smile.

"That's okay…me and Mattie can have a sleepover another time~" he hoped this would cheer his father up, and for a moment, Arthur didn't respond. But eventually, he managed a smile and gave a small nod.

"Yes, of course you can…" he promised, not wanting the children to pay for his own fears of a relationship. Alfred was overjoyed by this, hugging his father again. Arthur hugged him back, kissing the top of his head lightly.

He realised that he had pushed away a new start in life, a chance to give Alfred the family he deserved again, and to do the same for Matthew. And it had been a chance for Arthur to share the difficulties of raising a child with Francis, not to mention fall in love again. But he had pushed it all away.

It was all his fault.

He loved Francis, he knew he did. But he was also scared to love him. Scared to open himself up to being stabbed in the back.

He didn't know what he wanted anymore, but he longed for Francis to wrap his arms around him once more, at least.

A/N: So a bit of a depressing one, sorry. But don't worry, Arthur will get his wish soon (hopefully)!

I'm sorry for not updating in centuries but I'm struggling with work and such at the moment so I have to sacrifice my writing...but I hope you enjoyed this chapter...

Reviews are the source of my happiness~ So please make me happy XD